Crazy
by ElenaBolton20
Summary: There's something here. Something in the asylum that makes the lights flicker then turn off, and when they turn back on a patient dies. There's something in this place and it's offing us one by one. Nothing crazy makes sense, but then again...maybe that's why they put us here...
1. Chapter 1

**Crazy- Chapter One**

"No!" I scream, shaking and thrashing my head, kicking my legs in the air and trying break loose of the guards arms- honestly, they aren't that burly or well-muscled and they don't look like they can hold a 215 pound, all muscle, former basketball player of East High School. Yeah, that's what I thought when I first saw them, I laughed when they were sicced on me...it's not fun when my laughter from the past is shoved up my motherfucking ass. "I'm not crazy! I don't belong here! I swear it, I am not crazy!" Mental note number one, screaming at the top of your lungs when you're being dragged through a mental institution towards a big heavy door that is destined to be your room is not the best the best way to tell the guards and nurses that you don't belong.

If anything, it just makes the situation worse.

The squeaking of the door makes my ears cringe as it opens, dragging on the heavy floor. Shit. "NO!" I plant my feet on the ground, but that doesn't help they drag me further to the door and toss me in. At least they could've been gentle about it.

"You're not about to _try _escape again this time, sonny." Says the thick Irish accent, I narrow my eyes as I turn to face him and flip him the bird and give him the 'up yours' sign. He narrows his eyes and flips me the bird and shuts the door with a slam. If I can make anyone get pissed off, it's him. It's fun.

And there's nothing else to do in this shitty place than to piss people off, hell, they do that to me twenty four hours a fucking day. An eye for eye then.

I'm not crazy. I'm not. So I witnessed something I shouldn't've, but that's not a reason that I should be here. Groaning in frustration, I walk to the farthest corner from the door and slide down the wall, bringing my knees to my chest and resting my elbows atop them. Deep breaths, I tell myself. I just...I have to stay calm. I can't dwell on my -fourth- escape attempt. I can't, because if I do then I'll drive myself mad and then I'll actually deserve to be here. I lean my head against the wall, shutting my eyes and wishing that I was somewhere but this stupid room. _At least it's not padded. _

_And that I'm not wearing one of those "hug me jackets". _Fate is a bitch, a real bitch with a sickening sense of humour and she always has no problem what's so ever of making her punchline. Or the constant butt of jokes from the mouths of my so-called friends that are part of this whole scenario of me being in this hole.

_ . Real funny. _They are all on my shit list.

My kill list is a short one, and my former best friend is at the top of that.

Suddenly the door opens, creaking slowly and making me open my eyes and looking in the direction, I see the doctor enter in; her red hair perfectly flat and pulled back in a bun, no bangs- they're held back by black barrettes. Her eyes are covered by owl glasses with ugly black rims and she's wearing her usual black shirt with her doctor's tag and her black pencil skirt.

She'd be as hot as a sexy, playboy, Catholic school girl if she isn't such a fucking tight ass.

"Hello, Troy." Her voice is calm and set in a whisper tone. Always in a whisper, like she's afraid I'll react negatively to her speaking normal and take it as "yelling". Ha, maybe I should do that...just to shake up these visits. Hm, tempting thought...

"Hi." I say in a deadpan voice, not shaking the thoughts of scaring her shitless out of my head. She scribbles something down in her notebook, honestly, she's done that since our "first session" together. What the hell does she write? _Patient shows signs of a narcissistic attitude towards others? Apparent hostility towards staff? _It'd be pretty funny if she did. She stops her scribbling to look up at me with pursed lips that are chapped and covered in a pale pink lip-stain.

"How are you today?" I fight the urge to roll my eyes and cuss her out.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." But sometimes it's just too hard to resist, besides, I'm nothing if not consistent in my behaviour. She scribbles something else on her notebook and looks at me with that same pursed lips expression.

"Troy, do you know why you're here?"

"No."

"Do I need to remind you?" I internally smirk, leaning as far back on the wall as I can, staring at her.

"A refresher course would be excellent, tell me, why am I here in this hole?" She sighs, looking down at her notebook and scribbling what seems to be one word before she looks up at me again. There is some...sort of emotion in her eyes, but I can't tell which it is. Laying her notebook flat on her lap, she crosses her legs at the ankles and looks at me.

"Troy"- again with the name, honestly, does she think I'll forget or something? Eh, probably does -"you're hear because of the trauma you suffered-"

Trauma? What fucking trauma? I'm not traumatized! Damn it, where does she get off saying that? I'm not fucking traumatized! And I'm not crazy either.

"What trauma is that?" My voice is calmer than my head is...which is good, I don't want any chance of staying here any longer than I'm already forced to be. She sighs- another thing she does a lot, I notice things around here. And she sighs when she's frustrated and tired of treating her patients like small children.

"Six months ago, don't you remember the accident Troy?" my stomach wrenches and ties itself in a small knot, a lump clogs my throat and my eyes begin to fill with unwanted tears that I refuse to- and always have refused to -shed ever since that stupid "accident" six months ago. That's what they call it, an accident, why? Hell if I know, they just tell me that's not my fault and that everything happens for a reason. Well, bullshit, I know it was my fault because I was the one behind the fucking wheel. So they don't have the fucking right to tell me it wasn't my fault.

"I remember the accident, you don't have to remind me." _Bitch. _My voice is cold as I look away and I hug my knees tighter with my arms, I probably look like I fit in here right about now, but this is how I cope with some things, always has been. I should start rocking back and forth. For kicks.

"You have to remember, I'm here to help you-"

"I never asked for your fucking help and don't even think of writing every little thing I say or do in that stupid little book of yours. Why don't you do what every one else does with a notebook and doodle the name of your stupid crush? Just leave me alone." I pin her with my best and most rude glare, she doesn't even flinch as she gets up and straightens the invisible wrinkles from her pencil skirt and blouse. Her heels clack on the floor as she turns and walks to the door, knocking twice before it's opened, before she steps out, she turns and looks at me.

"Just so you know, if you try to escape again, you will be sedated and put into a much more uncomfortable room. There are guards outside your door, and your door will be locked whenever you're in it." Only she can make that sound like a "Hi. How are you? I saw a tree." conversation. She turns on her heel in a military style and marches out of my room. When she leaves the doors shut and I faintly hear the lock tumbler click. I sigh, laying my head on my knees. I shudder at the unwelcome memories of that day; the smell of burning rubber, the sound of metal twisting around phone poles and trees, the smell of burning skin and the stench of blood.

I recall also a drowning feeling, but I don't know, that could've been me choking on my blood. My body shudders as an involuntary memory comes to mind, it's just an hour before it happened. The stereo is blasting and me and my girlfriend are arguing. My best friend is in the back seat sucking face with his blond bitch of the week- oh I'm sorry, I meant girlfriend. I forget what me and my girlfriend were arguing over, but ..whatever it was...it changed my life for the worse and it put me in here.

I may have survived with Chad, his girlfriend (bitch), Sharpay but my girlfriend, my Gabriella did not...that's not the weird part. That's not the wonderful yet at the same time totally dreadful part that got me shoved in here.

The weird part is that the next day after her funeral, I saw her...sitting on my bed just as real as she was when she was alive. Imagine my excitement right? I saw the girl that I love sitting on my bed, of course I told my mom...she thought I was grieving.

Then it continued and she yelled at me never to speak of Gabriella again in such "poor taste", she couldn't see that I was telling the truth. So she went to a grief counselor, signed the papers and sent me here. Of course, then I was on the first floor in a normal room with a wooden door. That was before my first attempt at freedom.

That's how I got put into this room with the heavy guards, metal door, and...very uncomfortable mattress.

I'm not crazy, sure I talk to my dead girlfriend whenever I see her- which is all the time -but I'm not crazy. I'm just...I don't have a word for what I am, but crazy or insane isn't one of them. I sigh, lifting my head and squeezing my head between my hands, pulling at my hair by the roots.

I have to get out of here. I have- I look up as the lights flicker, a power surge? Then I hear scratching on the walls outside my room, getting to my feet, I walk to the door and peek out the small window. Nothing. When I turn to go to my lumpy mattress, I hear the scratching again followed by a-

"Ah!" That. I whip around and peek out the window again, I still see nothing, but I continue to hear the screaming. It's unbearable that I fight the urge to cover my ears, instead I bang on the door and yell out myself. I'm nearly tossed backwards when the door flies open and I land on the mattress, two nurses and two guards are looming over me.

"Why are you screaming?" Says one of the nurses, she has a portly face with beady eyes that remind me of a rat, a zit in the middle of her forehead and her boobs are about to be squeezed like lemons from her uniform. Her hair is salt and peppered with grey's and whites in the dark brown. I swallow, straightening up.

"Screaming...I heard screaming."

The guard snorts, "Yeah it was you."

"No, it came from down the hall...it was a woman-"

"Son," says the other nurse in a calm, gentle voice. She's blond, curvy with green eyes, she has what California guys call a bikini body and breasts that can fit in the palm of any man's hands. Not that I've tried or attempted to cop a feel, but hey, if I die in here...that is in on my bucket list. She kneels in front of me, hand on my cheek in a calming gesture, "no one was screaming but you."

No, that can't be possible, I heard it. They had to have heard it to. "What about the scratching noises?" I say, my voice slightly panicked, I have to admit, this is starting to really freak me out. They all shook their heads.

Rat Eyes, red head nurse, speaks again, "I didn't hear anything...you just need to rest okay?" No! I heard them, they weren't quiet! Anybody could've heard them! They're lying, they had to have heard it and they're just messing with me as payback for all the times I screwed with them. That has to be it.

"Troy," says the Blond nurse, "Yolie's right, you have to rest..no one heard any noise or screaming...it's been a long day." I look at her eyes, watching as she stands up and the four of them leave and the door shuts behind the last guard. I don't get it, I heard them...the noises, the screaming...what's happening? My heart feels like it's going to jump out of me.

_Relax, Bolton. _I chide myself, falling backwards on my mattress and closing my eyes. They're right, I just need some shut-eye. I'm not crazy, I'm not...

My head ...is just playing tricks on me. Holy shit. _I am crazy..._

* * *

**New story(: "The Pianist" is literally almost done with (a couple more chapters at least), so I thought to give you guys the gift of a new story. This story is called "Crazy", it's a little different from what I usually write, example: It's in Troy's POV and is going to stay like that. Gabriella is a ghost, but still the Troyella romance will be there. Gabi has a twin sister who- oop! Not revealing that or anything else, you have to review this chapter and then wait for the next(: **

**I hope you guys like this story. For the most part, it'll take place in a mental ward. (Anyone know the difference between a mental ward and a mental institution? Or are they the same?) **

**Anyway, let me know what you all think by leaving a lovely review for me. **

**Loves and Hugs, (bribery with cookies) **

**Elena xxxxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Crazy -Chapter Two**

"Gonna try to escape again?" I sigh, sliding a glance at Gabriella; looking as real and as beautiful as she did before she died. I'm sitting on the floor leaning on the bed, she's sitting on the bed with her legs crossed. Her hair, dark brown, sits in waves flowing over her shoulders and down her back, ending at her waist. Her chocolate eyes glow in teasing lightness. She's wearing ripped jean shorts, the back pockets are painted black with one green handprint on it. Her baby blue shirt is flowing and loose looking around the stomach but conforming (but not in such a way that it looks trashy, it's tasteful) to her breasts. Her eyes are lined with silver eye liner and her finger nails are black. She wear's knee high white socks with a black stripe, her shoes are white with red laces.

"You gonna keep asking that question?" I retort back to her, she laughs, I can imagine her drawing patterns in the air; something she's always done when she was alive.

"I'll always ask you that as long as you're in here, hon." I snort, shaking my head and running my fingers through my hair.

"I tried. Yesterday was my fourth attempt..." she sighs, and we both drift off to a comfortable silence. She's humming softly when the door opens, my eyes are still shut and I lean my head further back against the bed.

"Troy." Oi, it's would-be-hot psychologist. "I'm here for your next session." I mentally roll my eyes, lifting my head from the mattress and moving to sit on my bed; Gabriella sits next to me, of course only I can see her and hear her. The good doctor gets situated in a metal folding chair across from me and sits her notebook -as usual- in her lap as she pushes her glasses to her eyes. "How are you today?"

"Peachy." I say, speaking sarcastically in a deadpan tone. She writes in her notebook and looks up at me.

"Do you feel like hurting anyone?" _Just about every doctor who comes near me. _

"No."

"Do you feel like hurting yourself?" Gabriella flops backward onto my bed, waving her hands in the air as she's beginning to sing Sarah Jessica Parker's version of "Come Little Children", just to screw with me.

"...I'll take thee away, into a land of enchantment..." I clamp my fists on the mattress on either side of me, she's just singing that song to annoy me. It's working.

"Troy," says would-be-hot, scribbling down on her notebook, "why did you try to escape?"

_Cause I don't belong here, bitch. _I shrug. She writes and then looks up at me again.

"You promised you wouldn't..." I shrug again, leaning my elbows on my knees. I stare at her, and Gabriella has moved on from "Come Little Children" to "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder, she doesn't like the Raven Symone version; she doesn't like remakes of perfectly good originals.

"What's your name?" I ask would-be-hot, she looks at me with a raised brow as if it should be obvious. I repeat the question slowly as if she's the child and I'm the parent. She clears her throat.

"Silvia, Troy-"

"Well, _Silvia_, I'm aware that this is...a daily thing and whatnot, but I'm bored and kind of want to stretch my legs at the moment so if you don't mind-"

She nods, writing in her notebook and then closing it to set in her lap and just...stare at me. I should lean closer and widen my eyes saying, "you break first", but something tells me she'd just take that and write it in her notebook to analyze later. Chick needs a sense of humour.

"...There is superstition..."

I fight the urge to turn towards Gabriella and tell her to please just shut up, but ...I want to get out of here, not spend the rest of my life in it.

"Would you want to go to the activity room to be with the others?" Silvia asks, still whispering. _No, I want to go home. _I nod.

"...you believe in things that you don't understand..." When she stands up and goes to the door, she knocks gently before the tumblers click and it opens, Irish Guard stands on the other side of the frame, he looks at her then sends me a glare. I flip him the bird when she's not looking. I feel Gabriella standing next to me, still singing Superstition. I roll my eyes and follow Silvia out of the room, but Irish Guard puts a hand on my shoulder.

Some one, let me slap him...just once. One slap, that's all I ask. "And where do you think you're going, pretty boy?" I narrow my eyes as I open my mouth to speak, but Silvia beats me to it.

"He's going to the activity room, lead him there and tell the nurse on watch to keep an eye on him." Irish nods and waits till she's around the corner to shove me forward. I stumble forward, but catch myself.

_Someone better remind me to hit him..._

**...**

The walls of the activity room are a faded, dull green- sea green. I suspect that it's supposed to be calming to the patients here, but...occassionally there's an angry outburst that causes the watch nurse and a few guards to come in. So much for sea green being soothing. There's the occassional picture on the wall, and by occassional, I mean there's one picture on each wall; the wall behind me is a kitten in a basket of yarn, Gabriella likes to ogle it and go "aw..." I smirk at her cuteness. The wall to the left of me is a field of green pastures with a river between them, Gabriella ogles that one too, she sways side to side and tilts her head to the side. One time I asked her why she sways, she says, "cause...it's like they're trying to make everyone feel as calm as stoners..." she grinned then and said that it was working, I shook my head and shrugged, staring at the picture with her until I wanted to go back to my room. On the wall next to that one, the picture is a flower petal, the last wall is a picture of a cat hanging on a rope and the words underneath it read: **Hang in there, Baby! **

They want this room to be calming, and an area for us to be social and oh-so-happy. I sit in the corner with Gabriella, arms folded over my chest, just looking around the room at the patients. I call them "Crazies".

There's Solomon, he always stands and paces, mumbling incoherently about something that nobody understands. Then there's Natalie, her hair is nearly silver for her young age, she stares at the ceiling with that...glassy, dear in headlights look. Face impassive as she just stares at the ceiling. She's not much of a talker.

I find myself idly wondering what they're in for. "Helloo..." I turn my head slyly toward Gabriella, she's smirking at me.

"What?"

"You're thinking about something..."

I smirk back at her, "Yeah, you naked."

"Oh, you always have had a dirty mind."

"always will."

She shakes her head, her smile never leaving her lips as she winks at me, running a hand through her hair. We're both in that comfortable silence again as we just stare at the one painting walls, the people, the watch nurse checking her nails every five minutes. I'm tapping my foot on the linoleum floor to make the tick-tock sounds of the clock above the door mute themselves.

"Don't stop make it rock, DJ blow my speakers up..." I roll my eyes at my singing, dead girlfriend and lean my head back closing my eyes.

That's when I heard it again; the scratching along the walls, I jolt my head up and look around wherever I hear the noise. The lights flicker, the scratching gets louder; as if whatever is making the noise is coming at me. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to press my hands to my ears; I press them to my forehead instead.

"Hey," Gabriella says gently, "You okay, babe?" I open one eye, not moving my hands from my forehead as I continue to hear the scratching noises. Seriously, how does no-one react to this? How do they not react to the lights flickering? Gabriella frowns out of concern for me, "what's wrong, Troy?"

"You don't hear that? The scratching?" She tilts her head to the left, moving her hair to uncover her ear so she can listen. She shakes her head, "there's no scratching."

_Oh no, not her too. _Without thinking, I fully turn my attention on her. "Yes...there is."

She bites her lip, "N-" then there's the scream. The woman's scream, the same one I heard yesterday, my eyes squeeze shut and my hands flatten against my skull; my fingers grabbing my hair by the roots. Gabriella must have vanished or is really silent, cause she's not saying anything.

The lights go out.

Another scream. My eyes open on their own, I'm looking in the blackness like I can see to find what direction the second scream from. My breathing is heavy from my throat. My blood feels like it's freezing in my veins.

Then the lights come back on.

I am still standing, but I don't know how I cam to be standing far from where I was sitting, I look around and I see Gabriella sitting near me; wearing a white tee-shirt and blue scrub pants, basically the usual uniform attire for patients-wait, what? Gabriella doesn't wear that. She wears the clothes she died in. Who is the chick in the chair? I narrow my eyes at her, but she doesn't seem to notice. I feel a hand on my arm, "Troy.." says a gentle voice. The watch nurse, I turn my head to look at her. It's Yolie.

"Come on-"

"The lights went out." I say, she tilts her head and tsk's at me.

"Troy, it was just a small power surge." _So it didn't happen to just me. I'm not crazy. I'm not going crazy. _Why do reassuring thoughts sound like mantras you hope to be real and truthful? Swallowing, I pull my arm out of her hand.

"Screaming...someone screamed, who screamed?" another tsk.

"Troy," Yolie says, pushing up her glasses, "no-one screamed-"

_No! _"Yes they did...there was two screams this time." Yolie shakes her head, grabbing my arm again and slowly leading me to the door like I'm blind or something.

"I think you need rest-"

"No, I know what I heard...two people- women -they screamed, the scratching...it's real."

"Troy-"

"I'm not crazy, Yolie!" I yell, it's rare that I call anybody here by name, usually it's a colourfully, thought out "vocabulary" word that comes to mind. She looks at me, her eyes full of concern and her brows knitting together. I know what she's thinking, she's thinking I'm really crazy; that I actually belong here, but she doesn't want to say it for fear of my reaction, and I know what she's wanting to say but she won't say it. She's too nice. Damn her. "I'm not crazy.." I whisper, trying to tug out of her reach. Where is Gabriella? Did she vanish?

"Sweetheart, let's get you back to your room. Come on." I shake my head, taking a step back but she doens't let up on her grip. In fact, she starts practically dragging me out of the Activity Room and down the white marble floored hallway.

"No!" I yell, "I'm not crazy! I know what I heard! It's real! I'm not crazy!" I try to wrench free of her, but she keeps her hand firmly on my arm. The lights flicker again, and then the scratching noise comes again. I thrash my head to get rid of it, to make it stop, but it doesn't help; it sounds like the scratching noises are coming closer to us- or are we getting closer to it? Suddenly the lights stop flickering, returning to normal.

We've reached my room. "Sweetie, I just want you to rest? Okay? Just go in and lie down." How can she sound so calm when I'm completely freaking out? My breathing is eratic, and my palms sweating like a fat man in a sauna. She pulls a key from the left breast pocket of her blouse, puts it in the hole and opens the door. The lights are off. My heart speeds up. A bad feeling washing over me. I take a step back.

She looks at me, "Go in Troy." I shake my head, she tsks at me again, grabbing my arm and leading me inside and shutting the door when I'm inside. Great...

I'm alone with _something _in the dark. I shiver, taking a blind step in the darkness in what I hope is the bed, but I trip over something. Panicking, I turn my head over my shoulder just in time for the lights to return on.

Nothing. There is nothing there. _Shit, I really am losing it. _No, I'm not..I'm just clumsy when it comes to walking in the dark. The scratching noise is gone, it's quiet. I get up to my feet, and shakily make my way to my bed with the lumpy mattress and lay down. This thing...this whole thing is entirely too bizarre, it can't be real, but..it is. I've heard it. _Then why is it only you? _

I shut my eyes, trying to calm my eratic breathing, praying I'll wake up and I'll be back to normal. Normal.

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**In this chapter, was a glimpse of Gabi's twin sister; just a glimpse, they'll be more of her later on. But for the most part, this is a Troy centric story. I got to say, this is a fun story to write...:p  
**

**What do you think of this chapter? Let me know in a lovely review.**

**Loves and Hugs, **

**Elena xxxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Crazy - Chapter Three**

"So you heard the noises again?" Silvia asks me, for the fourth time. I don't answer, cause I know what I'll get as a response- it's probably the lack of medications I'm being given, she'll probably suggest my dosage get upped. I narrow my eyes at her and lean back on the bed; lumpy mattress, but comfortable refuge from all this...I lean my head against the wall. She sighs, setting her notebook in her lap; she's not wearing her hair up today- if eight in the evening could be counted as "today". Her hair is a half up, half down style. However, no bangs, those are pinned back but she looks prettier. Her usual black blouse and black skirt is a given, her ugly glasses are still there.

Still trying to be hot. "Troy, I'm trying to help you." How many times does she have to repeat that? I slide my glance over at the corner where Gabriella should appear. Usually does at this time, and when she appears behind a person she makes silly faces and gives them a halo, devil horns, and the ever classic...bunny ears. Oh, the joys of being dead where no many people can see or hear you. I'm envious of Gabriella at this time, does that make me a bad person?

"I didn't ask for you help."

"True," she pushes her glasses up, "but your mother and friends did-"

"Fuck them." I say, pushing myself off the bed and begin to pace around the room. For some reason, I go to the door and stand in front of the small, tiny window and just look out. My ears are peaked and my body stiff, maybe I'm listening for the scratches to appear again. Maybe I'm listening for the screaming and the lights to go out...

I'm not crazy, I know what I heard was real. I look left, there's Irish; scratching his bearded chin that looks like it hasn't been shaved or brushed in months. Oi. I look right, there's the other guard that came running in last night when I first heard the screaming and scratching noises. He's a little taller than Irish, he doesn't really speak to me, but he's more clean shaven than Irish is.

"Troy." It's not Silvia, it's her. I find myself smiling, her voice- even though she is a ghost -still has the effect of taking away everything bad and replacing them with good. I look at her from the corner of my eyes, she's wearing those same denim short shorts with the black back pocket, her top is the same and her hair is the same like her gold eyeliner. Beautiful. However, she's not smiling, her brow is knotted in the middle and her chocolate eyes are dark to the point of being mistaken for black.

I'm glad only I can see and hear her.

But I dare not speak to her. At least not while Silvia is in the room.

I sigh, turning my attention to the awaiting psychologist, "I know that my mom and friends thought that it was best that I'm in here...but it's not. I'm not crazy-"

"Seeing your girlfriend's ghost-"

"Troy I need to talk to you." Slyly, I look at Gabriella, her face is panicked and full of concern. I need to get Sylvia out of here.

"Silvia...look, I'm only going to say this politely just this once," take a breath, run a hand through my hair. "get out...please, I have a lot on my mind." Yeah, that doesn't sound crazy at all. She looks at me, raising a brow as she stands up from her usual folding chair and hugs her notebook to her chest. Nerd. Gabriella was a rebel, constantly in detention everytime I turned around. Her free spirit is what I fell in love with.

I mean, when I first met Gabriella...she was quiet but at the same time had the mouth of a swarmy sailor while having that international-woman-of-mystery thing about her. Her eyes and expressions were always guarded- sometimes, even as a ghost, they still are. She let me in the first time we had sex.

She was surprised I didn't leave.

_"Why didn't you leave?" I look at her, her hair is a mess and her lips are swollen. _

_"Why would I?" does she know that she's cute when she bites her lip and looks down as she tries to hide the obvious blush that turns her cheeks a pale rose? She looks at me with insecurity and for the first time, she's letting me in, and her voice cracks with a vulnerability that she doesn't usually show to anyone. Not even me. _

_"Because...everyone else does...m-my dad. My brother...everyone, Troy." Tears run down her cheeks then, and I can't just sit here, so I did what any guy would do that has compassion seared into his emotional mindset. I scooted closer to her on the bed and wrapped my arms around her. Hugging her close to my chest as I stroke her hair. It's this moment of vulnerability that I know that me and her bound together by the fates. _

_That we're meant to be together. _

That not even death can separate us, and it didn't, even when Gabriella left, she's still here...with me. In this hell that is St. Mary's.

Silvia sighs, hugging her notebook to her chest still as she takes a step closer to me. "You've been through a lot Troy, I get that...you loved your girlfriend; I lost my father when I was eight. I still miss him terribly and I'm thirty five now."

I look at her, knotting my brows together, "is that supposed to be any sort of consolation?"

She tilts her head, pushing her glasses up her nose and then sliding them down and wiping the lenses on her blouse before putting them on again. "What sort of consolation do you expect to be there when you've lost someone you love deeply?" I stare at her as she looks me square in the eye, and she turns in that military style of her's on her heel just as ol' Irish opens the door, then it slams shut and locks again.

Oh my God..did we just make progress? "Troy." I look toward Gabriella's voice, seeing her in her usual get up. She's worried.

"What?" I ask, feeling my concern bottling up for her. "What is it?" I see her swallow and run a hand through her hair and play with the split end of it; tapping her foot on the floor, something she always did when she was alive.

"My sister..." _she has a sister? _"She's here.**"**

* * *

Once again, and by sheer powers of persuasion- e.i.: pounding on the door screaming till one of the guards opened the damn thing. -I'm in the Activity room again, sitting by the wall, looking around at the different patients. Nothing changed in here from earlier, except...where's Solomon? I swing my eyes around the room, glancing over heads of people sitting and ones sitting in the corner's rocking back and forth holding child toys to their chests. He's not here.

_Chill Troy,_ I tell myself. _ He's probably in his room. It is after eight at night. _Yeah, that's probably it.

"She's here, Troy." Gabriella whispers from my left. Why does the thought of her sister make her sound so scared? I asked her that in my room when she brought up her sister then and she only said _"Abby- that's her name -is toxic and unstable, my mom put her here after our dad left; she's never recovered so she's never left...Troy, even before our dad left she's always been...strange." _She wouldn't elaborate on it. So I just take her at her words and now we're both here.

"What does she look like?" I ask her in a soft tone so that the night watch nurse doesn't look this way. Gabriella turns to me, eying me.

"We're identical, Troy." Twins? I know it's a risk of looking completely insane, but I look directly at her.

"You never told me you had a twin sist-"

"It wasn't exactly important!"

"She's your sister, Gabriella." How can a twin sister- excuse me, _identical _twin sister -not be important?

"Troy, she's dangerous-snap, there she is..." I look to where Gabriella's eyes are pointing; seeing an identical girl to her, only difference is that her hair is straight and she's wearing a white tee-shirt and blue scrub pants with slipper socks. Like me. How did Abby come to be here?

"Ella," I whisper, turning my eyes back to her, "Why is she in here?" She bites her lip, I fight the urge to put my hand to her cheek- mostly because I know that if I touch her then she'll appear like static and fizzle like a bad TV signal. So I fist my hands and look at her.

"She...she's violent, Troy."

Huh? I look at Abby again, she's sitting at the one plastic table where she's folding her hands in her lap and her head is bent toward the table like she's praying. I idly if she is, then I find myself walking toward that table...Gabriella's voice in the background...warning me away and telling me to come back.

But I don't want to. There's this pull I feel toward Abby, I can't help but...honor it and go to her; till I'm right behind her.

"Uh..." I clear my throat, "Hi." Her head snaps up, she twists in the chair to look at me ...identical eyes to Gabriella-or should I say 'eye'? Her left eye is covered by a white bandage and from her forehead to her jaw on the right side of her face is a gruesome scar that looks like it's had to many cover-up attempts and all of them have failed. I should be scared or...grossed out, but I'm not. I hold out my hand and smile friendly. "I'm Troy, and you look like you need a friend."

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**I'm amazed that so many people like this story right off the bat(: and I'm having fun writing it in Troy's point of view. There's more Abby in this chapter, Abby is the name of Gabi's twin. Abby is a key character in what's happening...she and Troy are going to be..connected for a reason. **

**You'll know more as chapters go on, and no, I'm not planning this as I go; I'm actually carefully executing everything carefully and hoping that things make sense. :D  
**

**Theme song for this story is "_Prelude 12/21_" by AFI, if you haven't heard it before, then you need to look it up now and listen to it. :D It's a great song and it fits the story so well- in my opinion. **

**Anyway, I'm rambling and I'll shut up now.  
**

**Love you all my dear readers! *hugs***

**Elena xxxx**


	4. Chapter 4

_Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me, I hope you love this chapter of Crazy. _

**Crazy - Chapter Four**

Awkward. Sitting across the table from that chick was awkward, she didn't talk...she just glared at me with the one eye that wasn't bandaged. I was tempted to ask her what happened, but I kept quiet, just keeping my mouth shut and staring at her. I stared, she glared. Now I'm in the corner again, staring out the window; it's pretty here at night, there's no traffic and street lights, so I can see the stars clearly and it's relatively peaceful- given that Gabriella is ranting in my ear and making my brains rattle.

If she wasn't dead, I'd strangle her myself.

"...and I told you not to go to her! She's dangerous, Troy! I mean it, she's-"

"Dangerous." I say, turning my head away from the night sky and the stars, looking at her. "Ella, you are repeating yourself-"

"Troy." It wasn't Gabriella who spoke, I slide my eyes to the left. Abby. She's looking at me with her unbandaged eye and she's biting her lip, her fingers are knotted in front of her stomach. Gabriella glares at her sister, is Abby aware of Gabriella being here? Or is she just...genuinely creepy?

"Yes..?" I respond, curious as to why she chose now to talk to me, instead when I was there with her. "What do you-oof!" and then her lips met mine, to say that Gabriella cursing in my ear isn't deafening would be a lie. I shove Abby back slowly, she looks like at me like nothing happened. Like kissing a random guy in a mental ward is the most...normal thing possible.

Well, here it may as well be.

"You taste good." Huh?

"What?" Gabriella gets in front of me, her spectral body as tense as one can be and her hands balled into fists.

"Stay away from my boyfriend, you bitch..." in a second, if I blinked I'd have missed it, Abby is thrown across the room and she crashes into the wall where the **Hang In There, Baby! **picture...used to hang. Now it's on the tile floor. It was truly an amazing thing to watch, not because Gabriella had pushed Abby back nearly fifty feet, but because Abby is back on her feet and staring at me with the one eye that isn't bandaged with an expression I cannot read.

"Hey!" Our little scene is interrupted when the watch nurse for the evening comes running to Abby, making sure she's okay and then she looks at me. Crap. She can't see Gabriella, so naturally..."what's the excuse to attack another patient?"

"Wh-wh..I..I didn't-"

"Mr Bolton," she says, looking down her hooked over nose. "First you have attempts to escape and now you attack an innocent patient." Where is this bitch getting at? My lips tremble a bit and my fingers twitch. It's not too soon after that she calls two burly guards over here and each of them grabs my arm.

"Hey! I didn't do anything!" I look toward where Gabriella is standing, looking from me to Abby. Love and concern to murderous; that's not what scares me though. Okay, Gabriella is spectral, I can't feel her and she can't feel me- though we both love to pretend -she has this light colour around her that projects her mood and sometimes I can see it. Like when she's happy, it's invisible, I can't see it but when she's upset or angry, her aura is a black or red or a grey. Never truly a pure black. But this? Her spectral aura is a black...a pure black, making her skin look pale in comparison. When she stares at me again, there is little love and little concern..."Ella?" I can't help but ask aloud as if she were still alive, her face twitches and she glows bright for a millisecond before vanishing. "Ella-"

"Get him out of here." says the watch nurse, the burly guards start to drag me out and I'm distraught with looking for Gabriella that I start kicking and thrashing. Screaming like a mad mental patient- oh sweet ironic torture.

As the guards drag me out, I vaguely hear the nurse talking to Abby; who still hasn't stopped staring at me even as the doors close and I'm dragged to my room. "I have ot find her, you don't understand...she's vanished-"

"Yeah right buddy." One of the guards say, shoving me in my room and glaring at me. "We know that you're one who likes to attempt to escape. We're not falling for it." Damn it.

"I'm not lying...she's gone-"

"Look," says the other guard, more gently than the other one. "Forgive us, but we can't let you out...especially not now when you have started attacking other patients-"

"BUT THAT WASN'T ME!" the guard on the left, jerkhole number one, rolls his eyes and walks off while the other guy just stands there and looks at me. "Please..." am I begging? "It wasn't...it was my girlfriend-"

"Your dead girlfriend.."

I scoff, "I know that she's dead, but I see her-"

He bobs his head up and down, reminding me somewhat of one of those bobble head dogs that sit on the dashboard of a car. "Which got you in here...son, you need serious help-"

"No...I don't." I argue, "I swear, I don't...look, yeah I've been through stuff...hard stuff, but I don't belong here-"

"Denial." What is this guy? A guard or a doctor in disguise? He tsk's at me and closes the door and I just stand there, in my mind, I go through what happened. Gabriella. Abby. Me. Abby kissing me. Gabriella tossing Abby across the room like a rag doll. Me getting the rap for it. That's when I feel it, my hands balling into fists and a rush of heat going through my whole body as my eyes blaze.

"Gabriella!" I yell, racing around my room and punching any space of the wall that comes with in a foot of me. "Gabriella get your spectral ass in here now!" She doesn't come, there's no rush of warm air whenever she's in the room with me. No shrill, annoying songs being sung by her just to annoy me. There's nothing.

The silence is more maddening than anything. I bring my hands up to my head, running my fingers through my hair and closing my eyes tightly as the silence seemed to get louder- how the fuck is that possible? "Gabriella..." I whisper, hoping to God she'd come and at least tell me what happened. She doesn't. I feel wetness run down my face, I shake my head to make them disappear, but they don't...they keep coming. Soon, the angry frenzy to extreme aching sadness; I start pacing my room until my legs hurt then I go to sit in the corner. Holding my head and nearly pulling my hair out by the roots, I don't know how long it is until I fall asleep...until the aching sadness makes my body crumble to the ground in a heap and I'm in a ball in the corner. Asleep.

It's a dreamless sleep.

**...**

Screaming wakes me up. Albeit, this is a mental institution and there is bound to be screaming, so at first I ignore it and bury my face deeper in to the floor and close my eyes tighter. God, my head hurts and my eyes feel heavy...what time is it? I run my fingers over the floor; cold tile under my sweaty, clammy hands as I push myself up and force my eyes to open. My room is shrouded in bright light from the ceiling light- damn room for not having any windows. I shake my head and stand to my feet, I almost fall twice, but I catch myself. I look toward my bed, undone and ...it suddenly looks unfriendly looking.

The floor looks comfier. I look at the door, the small window, and walk toward it. If the guards are there, I have no chance...but if they aren't...

No guards. I smile and dig in the hand made pocket of my scrub pants- Mental Institutions, they think crafts build friendships and character, and heal at the same time. I just find them instructive and skillfully fun. My pocket is what I keep my lock picking bobby pin in...where I got the bobby pin, I found on the surface of the registration desk at the nurse's station when I first came to this floor.

I grasp the door knob, sticking my tongue over my bottom lip as I try to pick it.

That's when I hear it again. The scratching. It's close; like...so close it can be on the other side of the door. Uh, with that thought in my head, I stop trying to pick and move back, looking quickly around my room for a weapon of some kind, but the furniture in here is basic beyond basic. A bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and small "bathroom" that is nothing but a toilet and a sink with four walls. Whoop-de doo.

I have no weapons. I'm screwed.

The door knob jiggles. I swallow nervously, holding my lock-pick in my hand; so tight my knuckles turn bleach white. It jiggles again, do I answer? Swallowing, I make my way towards the door; peeking out of the tiny window. Nothing. The knob jiggles again.

_**Abby:**_

"How you today, Abigail?" Says my psychitrist. I roll my eyes, I don't know how many times I've told her but I didn't have to tell the one I had on the fifth floor as many times. Yes, Abigail is my birthname, but I hate it, I prefer Abby. There has only been one person in my life that calls me "Abigail" and got away with it, my sister, Gabriella, but she's dead and I'm in here.

"It's Abby. And I'm fine." I've been in here awhile, so I've been through that whole '_I'm not crazy, let me out of here!' _stage- even though it was my mom who put me in here when my sister accused me of attacking her. Sure, I had a knife in my hand, but I'd never hurt her. Ever. Besides, she's not the one who got a bandage over her eye and a scar that covers half her face and plastic surgery cannot fix it.

I shiver, the memory of that day coming to mind. I was fourteen, and I had gone to my room for something when I heard something from my brother's room- this memory is before he left. Biting my lip, I lean my ear against the flat surface of the door, I hear screaming.

_"I am asking you for help, Rolan! This guy that mom's dating isn't good for her and definitely not Abigail!" _

_"Mom is a grown woman, Gabi, I'm not getting involved in her life-"_

_"Dude! The guy is making passes at me and he touched Abby's leg...mom may be oblivious that he's a pervert, but I noticed-"_

_"Why can't you stay out of it?" _

_"I'm protecting my family."_

_"And that is why dad left, you take on things that aren't your business; you were always sticking your nose in his-"_

_"He was having an affair-"_

_"Did you have proof." Gabi is silent, I strain to hear her further, but I don't, however I hear the sound of someone getting thrown about and I don't want anything to happen to her or my brother Rolan, so I twist the door knob and run between them. _

_Big mistake. I ran between them, got in the way and got tossed into my brother's glass trophy case. He apologized profusely and tried to help, but Gabi ...she just stood there in shock. _

She didn't talk to me at all after that. She didn't even look at me. I don't know who was the one who pushed me into the trophy case, but I know that two weeks later my brother left and Gabriella continued to avoid me like the plague..until she died, she avoided me- actually, I'm pretty sure her death is another way to avoid me so she doesn't have to look at me. Heh, she's the one that told our mother that I'm "dangerous" and "unstable", I didn't fight her when I heard them make the phone call and then I didn't fight when I was in the car and driven here.

At first I was on the sixth floor, with all the heavy duty psychos. I'm talking steel door, tray of food slid under the door through a metal slab and a regular flow of constant mind numbing meds- that part I didn't mind so much, I liked the haze it gave me.

My eye, the one I wear a bandage over, that happened when I was fifteen and I was fighting with a guard to get into this oh-so-lovely room. He caught me in the eye with his set of keys when I tried to shove pass him to run out of this place, my eye bled and I had to go to the infirmery for at least a week and was delivered more pain meds. The haze was kind of nice. Who knew one little eye could cause so much trouble and bleed so much?

"How are you coping being on this floor?" He asks gently, I look at him with my one eye and shrug.

"It's better than the sixth.." the ticking of the clock seems louder.

"I'm sorry to hear about the attack in the Activity Room." he says, ah yes, the one where some guy somehow managed to throw me across the room without touching me. Somehow, I don't think it's him.

I shrug, "It was nothing."

"Abby," my psychiatrist says, tapping his knee with his finger. "He attacked you.."

"Eh, I forgive him." Just like I forgave Rolan, I sigh, running a hand through my hair. My psychiatrist sighs and continues his tapping, he asks me why I forgive easily, I just tell him that I'm a forgiving person with a forgiving soul. He smiles at that and I smirk.

His name is Dr Martin, his eyes are grey-blue, depending on the light i guess, his hair is blond with tufts of brown poking from the roots- not a bad dye job but just showing how naturally brown his hair is. His skin is olive toned with a paleness to it, like he doesn't get a lot of sun, but he gets enough that gets vitamin D to his skin. I have tan skin, but I've been inside for six months so...I haven't been outside, so I'm paler than I normally look.

"What's his name?" Dr Martin looks at me like I've lost it. I roll my ...eye, "that guy.."

"He's not a patient of mine, he's my associates-"

"He looks like he's always talking to someone. When I was...'attacked', I heard him yell the name Ella."

"It's probably the name of someone he knew." I shrug, not mentioning the fact that Ella is-was- the nickname of my sister, so something's going on here, and I'm going to find out what.

* * *

**Like? Love? Hate? REVIEW!- this chapter is a present from me to you. (That...rhymed.) **

**You learn a little about Abby and her past before she came to be in the institution, and how she got her scar and the bandaged eye. **

**Questions for the chapter, What do you think is terrorizing Troy and why do you think it chose him? What do you think Abby's intentions are when she kissed Troy? **

**Answer them, I'm curious to know what you say. **

**I made a trailer for this story,** watch?v=id8c_Qn_qNA **,if the link doesn't work when you highlight and right click, then search "Crazy- Trailer by TenneyMaree19", that should help. **

**Loves,**

**Elenaxxxx**


	5. Chapter 5

_Okay, this is a biggy chapter. :) The Abby/Troy connection is found out between our two favourites. Troy is sarcastic as ever, Abby doesn't put up with it and Gabriella...she's acting all moody, mopey ghost-y right now but she'll return and...things will just get tenser than they already are._ **Bold - Abby's thoughts. **_Italics - Troy's thoughts.__  
_

_Enjoy the chapter! I'm glad you guys are loving this story!_

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**Crazy - Chapter Five**

_**Troy:**_

"You're quiet this morning." Sylvia says, not writing in her notebook and holding her clipboard to her lap instead of her chest. Is it my imagination, or is she letting her hair down - completely in the metaphorical term of thinking, cause she still looks like a tight ass to me. I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, I haven't seen Gabi since yesterday, when I got tossed in here for attacking another patient- I still want to lose my mind on Gabriella for that stunt, but at the moment, I'm just worried about where she is. I know that ghosts have no concept of time or travel, hell, she might even be in the bathroom of her favourite male actor; dude from Vampire Diaries...Demon? Dimin? Damon...

My stomach convulses a bit a the thought of her playing "spectral peeping tom" as the dude showers and jerks off with his girlfriend- who isn't bad to look at either, but at least I don't openly drool and gawk at the TV screen.

I do that- or did that -when Gabriella had gone home and then I fantasize. Usually it'd be brief because Gabriella would call the second she got in the door and my hormonal male sexual fantasies would be railed to a stop on miss Nina Dobrev to my girlfriend Gabriella Montez- honestly, there's no difference between the two. Gabriella in my mind is and was more beautiful. Fantasizing about movie star-TV star women? Eh, it's a guy thing.

I look back at Sylvia, noting that her hair is down around her shoulders and her glasses...are they new? They don't look like her usual "hide the eyes from the guys" pair she usually wears. She bites her lip as she analyzes me with that stupid, krikken probing stare like she always does. I fight the urge to ball my left hook up and smack her in the jaw line..._Relax, Troy. She's a chick, it's not in your nature to hit chicks. _Unfortunately, but that doesn't mean I can make crude faces at her in my head or think obscene things...

Krikken bitch.

"Troy?" I smirk at her, running my hand through my hair. "Are you going to speak today? Or should I cancel our session again?"

I shrug, blowing out a thing of air and bending my face up toward the ceiling; if I pretend to talk to "angels" would they put me on a higher dose of pills? Hey, I wouldn't mind, I hear the buzz is really something...

"No." I say simply.

"No you're not going to speak or No I should cancel our session again?" I look at her, my eyebrows scrunching together.

"No...don't cancel...I'm just tired." She seem's surprised, maybe it's because I usually openly call her a bitch and clam up and resort to basic shrugs and grunts while she writes in her dinky little notebook on her clipboard.

"Oh? Why is that Troy?" But she sure seems excited that I'm talking. Eh, I'll humour her.

"Because..." should I tell her the truth? Oh yeah, I wonder how she'd react to that.._I'm tired cause I fell asleep after freaking out that my ghost girlfriend hasn't popped up yet, and last night I woke up to loud scratching sounds and screaming. _Yeah, no. Telling her the truth is out, so I opted for a..half truth- technically not lying. "I just haven't been sleeping."

"Do you think you need sleep aids?" Oh hell no...

I smirk, "how's the buzz?"

"Excuse me?" Oh her face is priceless; how her eyes just widen and her lips pucker and then her eyebrows shoot Northward. "Troy, this is not talking about pills..we are talking about why you haven't been able to sleep-"

"Would you believe me if I told you?" My voice hitches, a habit when I'm either scared or frustrated or annoyed, I hate to admit my fear right now so...let's opt for either frustration or annoyance. I run my hand down my face and just look at her, she sighs, but her face is blank. Huh, I have never noticed before how blank her face is..how it's always been like that since I've been here.

A long silence drags on, we stare at each other in a staring contest as the clock ticks on and on. Then she shakes her head and hugs her clipboard and notebook to her chest as she stands up- Ha! I win! "This afternoon, I have the day off...I'll see you tomorrow, but for your afternoon session, you'll be seeing a colleague of mine."

I shrug, shaking my head dismissively and getting up from my chair and walking over to the window, staring out through the bars. My room is facing the front, not directly but still I can see the gates as if they want to taunt me by sending the message "you'll never get out, you're stuck here until we say otherwise", it's sickening and depressing. The door opens and shuts behind Sylvia when she leaves, so damned predictable, I don't need to look to know that she's left me alone.

**Fuck! **I wince at the voice, it sounds close and...really angry. **Stinkin', idiotic piece of shit...I hate you! **where the hell is it coming from? Did a nurse leave a door open nearby or something? I turn toward the door and squint at the window, walking to it and peeking left and right. I only see the backs of the guards- geez, I only attempt to escape...three times and they suddenly think I need 24/7 guarding.

They're right, and again, I'll humour them.

I hear the voice again, **I hope my toe doesn't get infected from this- stupid bed for stubbing my toe...**what is that? _Who is that?_

"Hey!" I yell, pounding on the door. One of the guards turns, oh ...it's Irish. I narrow my eyes as he opens the door and looks me up and down.

"What?" He says, his accent curling around each word like a noose.

"Whose yelling?" That's right Bolton, cut to the point. He quirks an eyebrow at me and clucks his tongue, you know? That really annoying thing that people do just to piss you off or ruin your day? Or both.

"No-one's yelling." What?

"But I heard it, someone yelling about stubbing their toe-" Now he's just one lip jerk from laughing at me.

"No one is yelling." He goes to shut the door, but I won't have it. I'm not going to accept the fact that this place might be actually making me lose my krikken mind, so I jump and grab the door with my hand, glaring at him.

"I heard it!" I yell, "Someone was yelling!" he shoves me back, but I don't budge and he looks me in the eyes like he wants to murder me in my sleep. Ha, try it bud, this place is high security and you'd be out of a job if you did that.

"No one is yelling, now get back in your room-" **What the hell is going on now? **This time the voice sounds really close, so I shove pass Irish and go into the hallway, looking around; first it's weird, ominous scratching noises and now it's voices that have no body-

"Hey, Irish." I turn to see Abby, her bandaged eye and right side scratch are unmistakeable. "What's going on?" she looks at me, something...unsettling in her gaze. I can't decipher what it means but it makes me shuffle uncomfortably. Irish looks at her and smiles, oh sure, he smiles for her. _I see how you are, now I'm going to continue to be a pain in your ass and a thorn in your foot. _

"Just this boy making trouble-" Oh hell no.

"I'm not making trouble." My jaw ticks, _asshole. _Out of my periphial, I see Abby look at me wide-eyed and then at Irish with a blank expression and smiling eyes.

"Yeah well...everyone makes trouble, Irish." He rolls his eyes and jabs his thumb at me, he doesn't say anything, he just jabs his finger at me and expects me to take it. _Jab that finger at me all you want, asshole, I'll cut it off in your sleep along with your favourite apendage. _Abby's eyes widen again and her lips quiver...from what I don't know, but if she doesn't stop staring at me like she just got a bright light shone in her eyes I'll slap her myself.

**Try it, assbutt. **Holy...fuck...

I turn my head toward Abby, just looking at her and she's looking at me. _Fuck..._

**I'd say watch your language, but something tells me you swear anyway. **

_So do you, Princess. I heard you..._yeah having a conversation via thoughts isn't crazy at all. Maybe it's just her and she's affecting me...like a virus.

**I'm a virus now? **I smirk at her scowl, hating to admit that she's kind of cute cause she is. I turn to look at Irish, whose staring at us like we've lost our minds- okay, that was a poor choice of words. I mean, look where we are for crying out loud. Running a hand down the back of my head and scratching my neck, I clear my throat. "I'm going to the cafeteria." I walk around Irish and toward the grub center; feeling Abby's eyes on my back the whole time before I turn the corner and she disappears.

_What the hell just happened?_

**You tell me...**

_Shut up. _

**Make me. **I narrow my eyes, balling my hands into fists and stalking toward the grub center in a foul mood. This...weird connection between her and I is going to be annoying, I can tell.

Now...to figure out what it is and what caused it.

* * *

**Good news! I am planning a sequel to "The Pianist", it is called Falling Inside The Black, and I'll make you all a deal, review and tell me what you think of Abby and Troy and their connection and I'll give you a preview of the prologue for Falling Inside The Black, deal?  
**

**Love you all!**

**Elena xxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Crazy - Chapter Six  
**

_**Troy:**_

Guck. Slop. Two words that aptly describe the meals here- okay, they aren't all that bad, it's just that the breakfasts are...mostly oatmeal. What are they trying to make us do? Shit all day? I roll my eyes, shoving my bowl and tray away from me and crossing my arms in front of me. Damn, I'm tired, I just want to lay ...on any flat surface and sleep for what must be an eternity. My mind drifts to Gabriella, wondering where she is, why hasn't she come to me? First last night and now this morning...I'm starting to miss her annoying singing of old songs.

"Does the nurse's know you aren't eating?" The voice that's in my head, now so close to me. I put on my scowl but it fades as soon as I see Abby staring at me, why is it hard to scowl at a person that has a scar on their face and a bandage over one eye? Eh, must be pity.

"I eat, I'm just not hungry." She nods, setting down a book on the table before she sits down across from me. "I didn't ask you to sit-"

"Yeah, I don't care." _Bitch._

She narrows her eyes at me, her fingers flat against the table; which is a contrast to her tanned skin. She must have ..."heard" me. I roll my eyes, "I'm sorry..."

"I don't know how you can hear my thoughts-"

"And you think I know?" Ha, take that for a retort. She tilts her head at me, running her hand through her hair as she looks somewhere else. Somewhere behind me. Okay, I'm curious, I look over my shoulder and I see Gabriella standing in the corner; she looks more transparent than normal. Like a bad signal on a television. Then it hits me and I turn toward Abby. "You can see her?" She looks at me with a 'duh' stare.

"I'm not blind- partially with this bandage on-"

"No," I shake my head, trying to get my bearings. "You don't understand...you can't see her or be able to, she's dead."

Again, another 'duh' stare. "I know she's dead."

"Then how come you can see her?"

"Troy." Gabriella pops up at the end of the table, I slide my eyes to see out of the side of my vision. She's worse than just 'more transparent', she's paler than usual and ...more ghostly looking. "I need to talk to you.." she looks at Abby, glaring. I put up my hand so she doesn't do anything and I look back at Abby.

"How can you see her?"

"I am not at liberty to answer-"

"Bullshit, just answer me. How can you see her?"

"She can see me?" Abby rolls her eyes-eye- looking at Gabriella in a full glare. "Big sis, why don't shut up and go haunt Chace Crawford?" Gabriella glares at her, the spark of electricity in the air around the table really thick.

"Gabriella, don't...last time you attacked her, I got blamed for it." She looks at me, there's something in her eyes. Something dark. Suddenly the lights flicker, there's that scratching noise reaching my ears and Gabriella's head starts jerking all over the place like that actress from that movie The Possession.

Everything goes black.

There are screams.

Then the lights come back on and there's another scream, more screams, and guards and nurses running in toward the middle of the room. I look at Abby, she's staring with fear written clearly on her face, I look at Gabriella...she's gone. Swallowing, I turn my attention to the middle of the room where the guards and nurse's are, but it's what they're carrying that gets my attention.

Soloman. His wrists are slit, and there's a cord around his neck... when they carry him past the table me and Abby are sitting, there's a small hole on the side of his head. Right where his brain is...I ponder for a small second before the head nurse comes with the doctor on duty (Ha ha, doody- yeah I'm an immature mook. Sue me.)

"Everyone return to your rooms, until we give the all clear that you can leave you are to stay in your rooms." I look at Abby who looks at me.

_This is serious. _

**No shit, sherlock...did..did you see him? **She actually sounds scared, well mentally, but I can imagine her voice trembling if she were to speak physically. There's a brief calm before the cafeteria erupts in a panick and I almost fall over to the floor, kissing it with my face; Abby grabs my hand and keeps me on my feet. I pull her out the side entrance and take her to our hall- assuming she's in the same all as me.

"Where's your room?" She looks at me, pointing down the hall.

"At the end. Further down than yours.."

"I'll take you-" she shakes her head, her curls flying all over the place, she slides her hand out of mine as she looks up at me.

"I'm fine, it's just down the hall. I can handle myself." She begins walking down the hall when the lights flicker again, I swallow. "Abby!" I call out, she stops and turn towards me.

"I'll-I'll be in your head...to make sure your safe.." is she smirking at me?

"Whatever you say, Bolton." **Whatever you say. **

_Bitch._

**Asshole.**

_Assbutt. _

She smirks, shaking her head as she turns around again and starts walking again. I don't move until I see her go into the room at the end of the hall, at which I release a breath and go into my own room. That's when I'm pushed against the far wall, the door slams shut and I hear the click to know that it's locked. The fuck? I try to turn around; and I would've, if I didn't suddenly feel icy fingers around my neck from behind, squeezing, and then icy breath at my ear.

"You can't escape me..." it's a raspy voice, kind of like a chain smoker, I try to turn so I can get a look at the intruder, but they hold me down on the wall and I feel what feels like either sharp as hell claws or long as hell nails run down my spine. "I don't know how you can sense that I'm here, but I'll find out...and then I'll come after you..." she runs a finger along my forehead- beaded with sweat as adrenaline pumps through my whole body. The intruder groans in satisfaction. "Mm, crazy brains...they taste...delicious.." they lean their lips up to my ear, "I wonder how you taste." Oh, that's just sick.

That is...that's wrong.

"Go to hell." I rasp out, wriggling in their hold; trying to get free. They laugh in my ear just before they run their slimy finger over my forehead again, they slap the back of my head, knocking me to the ground and they lean to my ear, their voice raspy and cold.

"I'm coming for everyone in this place...I'm deciding when to come for you...since you taste ...sensational." Like that, their gone and I'm in a world where the only sound is the buzzing sound from the light above my head as it turns back on. My heart pumping in my body, my throat closed so tightly, I wonder if it'll open sometime soon.

What the hell? What was that thing?

* * *

**:O *Le Gasp!* this was a gripping chapter. Do you think that whatever is in the Institution is causing Gabriella (ghost) to go all wonky? What are your opinion's on the Troy/Abby connection?  
**

**How many of you want a background on the creature in the hospital next chapter? **

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!(:**

**~Elena xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Crazy - Chapter Seven**

_**Abby: **_

It's...eerily quiet. Considering what had just happened in the cafeteria with that guy the nurses and guards pulled from the ceiling with the slits on his wrists and the hole on the side of his head like something had stabbed him with great force enough to break the skull. Physically, and emotionally, I'm stoic, my eyes blank. Not a sign of fear. Mentally, I'm panicking and wanting to get the hell out of here. **Bolton. **I say, the idea of a person- a guy -in my head disturbs me, but it's better than having stark silence which is what we have right now.

Seriously, I don't even hear the guards chattering as they walk by. Idly I wonder what Bolton is doing, I mean..I barel know him, but it's nice to have a friend in here- no my psychologist is not a friend, he's just a guy that asks me questions and I answer them. **Bolton answer me..**didn't he say that he was going to be "in my head" when I got to my room? Well, where ...is he? - I cannot believe that I actually want him in my head. Sighing, I push myself up into a sitting position on my bed, pressing myself against the wall and hugging my knees.

I hate the quiet, it reminds me of when Gabriella used to watch scary movies with our brother and I'd walk in and scream at the scene no matter if it was scary or not. I didn't like it, every time I saw a scary movie and I walked down a dark hallway, I wouldn't go down it...I'd ask Gabriella to walk with me.

In a lot of ways, I miss my sister, and in a lot of ways, I wish she was here...even if she is a ghost and I'm not the only who can see her. Apparently. Why can Troy see her? Gah, I'm thinking too hard.

Suddenly the lights flicker again, my breathing hitches in my throat as they continue to flicker for minute after minute; all the while my heart beating so fast it's like humming birds wings in my chest; but it hurts too much to breathe.

Then the lights go out.

And the screams start.

My panic is worse.

I hug my knees closer to my chest, closing my eyes as I try to calm my erradic breathing and excelerated heart rate. I feel like I'm in a horror movie when there's something in every corner of the dark room and waiting to grab me the second I get off the bed; or something under the bed, waiting to grab my ankle as soon I set my feet on the floor. I sit in a tighter ball in the middle of my bed, I can't see a damn thing. Not even my hand in front of my face.

I know I said, I hate silence, but hearing the screams of raging psychotics...not what I wanted either. Closing my eyes tightly, I lean back on the flat surface of the bed. It's dark, yet it's light out...does this place not believe in windows in the rooms? Well, that's not true...some of the rooms have windows, mine doesn't.

"It's nothing," I whisper, which seems so loud that it echoes in the darkness. "Its just a power out-" the scratching noises me open my eyes, I see the door with a thin light shining under the bottom, it's ...sort of an eerie glow that is a greenish, gray colour. Swallowing nervously, I untangle myself and set my feet on the floor- scuttling away from the bed and staying away from the corners just in case. I stare at the light...

It's sort of beautiful in a creepy sort of way. I feel...almost drawn to it.

_Abby. _It's a whisper in my ear, but it sounds far away and like someone speaking in a cave. Shaking my head, I swallow and take a step toward the door, I need to see what's going on. To see if there are any guards and nurses...find out what's going on. _Abby, there's something here. _I swallow again, stopping in my tracks as I listen to the voice.

It's Troy. I'm tempted to answer him, and I know I should but the light that is under the door keeps drawn and not thinking clearly. Soon, I'm two feet in front of the door...a foot. Face to face with it.

Instinctively, I put my hand on the doorknob, standing on my tiptoes to peek out the tiny window looking from left to the right. Empty. Where the hell is everybody? Then again, it looks empty cause the lights are off, and I cannot see. Why doesn't this whole building have windows? Ah yes, cause some patients have attempted or succeeded in jumping from them. Death is better than being stuck in here apparently.

Suddenly, when I exhale a breath, I shiver and see my breath fog the small window. I let go of the doorknob and wrap my arms around myself, that's when I feel _something _curl tight around my ankles and yank my feet from under me; the floor meeting up with my face in a hard thud that I swear I heard my nose crack under the pressure, I tried to have my arms break the fall, but I think my wrists are broken from the impact. My panic flares up in my chest with a suffocating squeeze, I feel myself being dragged on the floor.

I rake it with my fingernails, some break...some bleed. I scream and try to kick my legs free, "Let me go!" I yell with having no idea who or what I'm yelling at. They pull me farther back until I'm completely enveloped by the shadows, "no! Help! Somebody!"

"Shut up!" says a raspy, growling voice, a cold hand covers my mouth.

"Mmm!"

"This isn't going to hurt...well, it's not going to hurt me."

"Mm.." whatever has me, they sniff my hair- no, they sniff my head. Okay...that's..not strange at all. They laugh, removing their hand from my mouth to flip me over on to my back and grasp my wrists tight, I wince and suck in a pained gasp of air. I can't see a thing, I squint in the darkness, but I see nothing. They laugh again.

"Good luck trying to see me, you humans are limited in what you can see-"

"Get off me!" I yell, but it tumbles clumsily over my lips, I kick my legs and thrash my arms, but the thing holds tight, it leans it's mouth to my ear and moves to the spot behind it, breathes softly and licks it with it's tongue.

Ew.

"Hm, adrenaline. Why does that make a brain taste...delicious?" I'm sorry, what? I thrash my arms more and kick my legs, but it's straddling me now and gripping tight to my wrists, damn this thing strong.

"It's going to be quick." Suddenly I feel something sharp against my skull- as well as something sharp against my hip. Oh great, this thing is a guy if it has a boner ...only something so sick and demented would have a boner in a moment like this. "Relax." he grinds on me briefly, and I fight the urge to puke in his face. **Bolton, I need help now! **

If there is ever a moment that I'd be grateful for a guard rudely intruding in my room, that moment is right now. The sharpness at my head pricks it barely, **Bolton! **He grinds on me again and again...I really don't want to be raped by a brain sucking thing from a horror movie.

* * *

_A/N: Things are getting scary aren't they? Okay, I'm going to give you a background on the thing in the hospital. (to those who read this, when you review, say "Zac Efron")  
anyway,, here's the background.  
_

_it's called a **wraith**. (pronounced Rayth)  
_

_Wraith's (in this story) are:_

_*Mostly male- there are females, but they are rare. _

_*Highly Sexual(ly violent) _

_*They suck the brain juice/matter out of their victims through a straw- like knife that juts out of their palm; which is hidden when they are in the daylight, so wraith's are night creatures. _

_*Their true form can only be seen in a mirror- or any reflective surface._

_*They can pass for a human._

_*True eye colour can vary between bright red to dull gray (almost white), and also, their true form, they have long black hair that is to their shoulders. _

_*Sharp teeth, in both human and wraith forms- it's why they barely smile in either. _

_*Cold hands, fingernails that resemble hooks. - True form only. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Crazy- Chapter Eight**

_**Troy:**_

My head pounds. I feel like my eyes are glued shut and I have to pry them open, even then I immediately shut them; the blinding light of the ceiling lights is too much. Gah…what happened last night? Slowly, I sit up, feel myself sway but I fight the urge to lay back down.

My head hurts like fuck. My vision is blurry and my ears feel like they're waterlogged.

"Let me in! I need to see him!"I barely register the shrill voice that bellows on the other side of the door, it's deep and rich. Familiar. I move to the corner, sitting with my knees drawn to my chest and leaning my forehead on my knees. The lights are so bright, and the noise outside the door doesn't help the headache I have.

I feel like utter shit.

"Look," says Irish, "you can't see him. He's in isolation." What? I don't hear what Abby says, but Irish's explanation is loud and clear to me; he says that I attacked three guards and a doctor when they came in cause I screamed. I squint my eyes, trying to remember what happened, but I get zilch. Well, not zilch, just the vague memory of a scratching noise and something poking my head….

A growling voice and a hand over my mouth. _How did I scream with my mouth covered? _Maybe I was dreaming…or playing some sort of prank on the guards— "You don't understand, I need see him."

"And I told you before, you can't." Irish says, I shake my head; standing up slowly and moving to the door to peek out the tiny window.

I jump back immediately when I see two red eyes glaring at me with a hunger that suggests more than a Friday dinner party at a friend's house. My heart beats out of my chest, I back up toward the far wall and close my eyes tightly. "Not real," I tell myself. "Not real…whatever it is..it's not real—"

"Troy?" I open my eyes at the voice, I let out a sigh of relief. Chad. My best friend since preschool…wait a minute—

"You put me in here." I say, narrowing my eyes at him. He actually looks guilty.

"I'm sorr—"

"I don't belong here." I wince at the doubt in my voice; do I really believe that I belong here? _Here_? Of all places…

"You were saying things Troy…about Gabriella and Abby and something that—"

"Gabriella? Abby?" What exactly did I talk about when Gabriella died? What 'thing' did I speak of? I put my hands on Chad's shoulders and I stomach the urge to fling him back when he flinches at my touch. "What did I say, Chad?" He lets out breath.

"Let's not talk with them"—he jerks his thumb over his shoulder toward Irish and his buddy—"I need to tell you something." I bite my lip in hesitation, remembering something about Abby…last night…did she scream? Call for me?

"Where's Abby?"

"Abby? Troy…that's what I want to tell you! Abby's gone." _What?_

"What?" My brows knit together in confusion, my gaze narrowing on Chad until he takes a step back away from me. "Where is she?" Better question, what is Chad doing here? Why and how does he know about Abby? Oh wait, that's more than one question. Oops.

"How should I know?" I says, shrugging, "the bitch is gone." I see red, my teeth clench and before I can think, I run at Chad and pin him to the wall.

"Take it back!" I scream, making Irish and his friend turn around. "Abby ain't no bitch!"

"Troy! Let go of me!"

"Take it back!" his eyes plead with me, but just glare at him; glare at him with the utmost anger until he eats the words and then shits them out of his ass. Abby isn't a bitch.

"Troy, listen…about Abby," he grabs my wrist, "Sharpay and Taylor were going through Gabriella's things…her yearbook; every picture that Gabriella was in was viciously scratched out with a knife or something…"

"And you're accusing her sister!?" Now I'm pissed. …and I have no idea why? I mean, they are just yearbook pictures. Probably water damage.

Right?

"Troy listen to me! Abby did it! She killed her sister!"

"Bullshit!" My hands squeeze his neck and I would've choked him, had Irish not pulled me off; even then I was kicking and screaming; mentally and vocally.

_Maybe I do belong here._ Wait, Abby has some sort link with me, we can communicate. _Abby? Abby, you there? Answer me…_

Nothing.

"Come on," Irish says, pulling me away from Chad, "I think you need to lie down."

"NO!" I scream, "I have to help her! She's in trouble!" I feel it in my bones, Abby needs me. My eyes wander all over the room, going from Chad—who is rubbing his neck from where I squeezed to every spotlessly white corner and wall. Gabriella stands in the left corner by the door; pale as the moon and surrounded by that pulsing black aura. "Gabriella! Help her! She's your sister! She needs you!" when she looks at me, my heart stops.

Her eyes…they're not the chocolate brown I love. That I know.

They're read, surrounded by pulsing black and red; she smiles a crooked smile at me, revealing sharp teeth and her hair turns stringy and tangled. I swallow. "Gabriella…"

A hiss escapes her throat as she appears right in front of me. _"Gabriella's gone, Abby's gone. Everyone in this hospital…is mine." _The lights go out, the locks on the door click when they slam shut. Chad panics and the guards panic, Irish still has a hold on me.

"Let us out! Somebody!" Chad yells, pounding and kicking the door. "Help us!"

The lights go out….

And we're surrounded by screams.

* * *

**I am so sorry! Writer's block is killing me and my computer is down...mmm, Goodwill has laptop's right? Hmm, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Things are getting crazy; Chad's in the story now. Abby's missing. **

**Gabriella's being taken over by something *creepy voice* Evil...**

**Troy is doubting if belongs there or not..**

**What do you think? Tell me your thoughts!**

**Much loves,**

**Elena xxx**


	9. Chapter 9 (part 1)

**Crazy- chapter nine (part 1)**

_**Abby:**_

I don't know where I am. All I remember, in all honesty, is pacing around my cell –I mean my room—in the hospital. That's when the lights went off after I heard some scratching wet noises and then something wrap around my ankles, yanking me to the floor; my breath leaving my lungs as I'm straddled from behind and my hair is pulled back so tight that I felt blood tangle in my hair.

Now I'm somewhere dark and musty; the smell so intoxicating that I fear that I may puke, but something is keeping me from doing so, I don't know what. Chain's bind my wrists above my head; my breasts jutting out, my shirt ripped down the front. My face is dirty and sweat; dried blood running down my temples.

"Why am I here you son of a bitch?!" I yell, tugging on my chains, "Let me go!" my voice is hoarse; barely there.

"You are never this vocal in our sessions." My eyes widen at the familiar voice, it's my shrink. I hear more scratching noises, waiting for him to come into what little light there is down here.

He doesn't. Instead, I hear raspy breathing and I feel a hand on my spine. "You…are beautiful." It's a …weird whisper-slash-demonic voice. I swing away from him, but he holds my waist against him; his erection poking my ass. He put his lips to my ear then slides them down; moving my hair out of the way.

"Get away from me," I spit out. He chuckles.

"Why would I let a meal go? I mean, I do like fast food." He presses his cold, slimy lips to my throat; I feel something long and thin make circles. _Good God, is that his tongue?_ I shudder.

"You are a sick bastard." I try to pull my chains to free myself, but it's futile, they don't budge. He chuckles again, moving to the front of me and I try my best not to scream; his eyes are a reddish colour and his hair is stringy; making his pale skin seem paler and more grotesque. He puts his hands on my breasts; groping and squeezing them.

"My kind …we love playing with our food. Regardless if they are woman or man." Ew.

I spit in his face, he steps back and hisses but steps forward again, glaring at me as he grabs my throat. Raising his left hand to show a sharp, knife-like poker jutting out from his wrist. His lips to my ear again, "perhaps my food doesn't want to play."

My heart beats faster, I try to move…to breathe, but he keeps his hand on my throat and presses his poker to the spot just below my skull, behind my ear.

I close my eyes, knowing that I may die tonight.

I wait for my death.

Then I hear a shriek. _"ABIGAIL!" _ there's only one person I know who has ever called me that in my life, and even so…I don't know if it's a dream or a hallucination. Then again, I am in a mental institution.

"Gabi…" I choke out, just then Mr. Monster is shoved backward against the wall. I'm breathing hard as I see my own sister materialize in front of me. She looks…practically see through.

"Abigail," she breaths, "I don't know what…I have been..every time I'm around Troy I'm …different. Evil."

I swallow, my voice hoarse, "just get me out of here." She nods, materializing enough that she looks practically living as she reaches up and grasps on to the chains. "That won't—" they clunk and fall to the ground. I look at her with a gaping expression.

She rolls her eyes, "come on, Troy needs help." She vanishes into my necklace and I quickly run out of my dark, musty prison hole.

_I'm coming Bolton, don't get yourself killed. _I hope he doesn't.


End file.
